


hush, hush ashes and dust

by corgoptimism



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Biting, Clawing, F/F, also evelynn is a whole ass demon, and like eat each others souls and shit, being consumed by a malevolent shadow entity, but its super fucking-adjacent, but like thats ur gf so its chill, it be that way, its very consensual but like it is very much not perfect relationship, latent empathic abilities but theyre horny, like u kno? u kno, shes not. nice, so uh, sometimes ur two monsters and u gotta make out, this technically isnt fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 04:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18242765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corgoptimism/pseuds/corgoptimism
Summary: Lips pursed in mock-irritation, ears twitching, she is calm and self-assured; the picture of perfection, entirely at Evelynn’s mercy.So unmarred by the world — a blank canvas to rip into, to hear her sing.





	hush, hush ashes and dust

**Author's Note:**

> q: did you beta this  
> a: no
> 
> q: did you at least proofread it  
> a: not really
> 
> q: will you ever stop titling your fics with meg myers lyrics  
> a: leave me alone
> 
> q: are you down to fuck monsters  
> a: yeah

She slams into Ahri with the force of a raging storm, digs claws into her shoulders and bares her fangs in the low light. She is half-formed, barely clinging to those learned vestiges of human life, and her essence spreads across the ground and pools around Ahri’s body as Evelynn leans over her, inhaling her — memories, emotions, everything — and exhaling shadow that wisps into the night air.

Life grows silent at her coming; the forest holds its breath, and all its creatures dig into their hidden places to wait out the storm —

— Yet the woman pinned beneath is unafraid. Her face is half-lit in silvery moonlight, hair spilling across the forest floor in a river of midnight, tails encircling her prone form with a crescent mimicking the one hanging above their heads.

“Hello to you, too,” Ahri says, simply, and Evelynn doesn’t dignify the veiled scolding with a response.

Instead, she presses in closer, harder; her body a solidifying weight on Ahri’s ribcage as grasping tendrils of shadow coalesce into something more physical.

Ahri doesn’t flinch, even when Evelynn’s eyes narrow to slits and those gnarled claws grip more tightly -- razor tips bite into her shoulders like red-hot spikes, but she weathers the sensation with little more than a grimace. Her golden eyes are gleaming, unclouded by fear or worry; Evelynn finds her lack of concern insulting, almost (even though she enjoys the attention.)

Lips pursed in mock-irritation, ears twitching, she is calm and self-assured; the picture of perfection, entirely at Evelynn’s mercy.

So unmarred by the world — a blank canvas to rip into, to hear her sing.

Ahri can see the intent in her eyes, she knows; Evelynn makes no attempt to hide it. She likes the danger, Evelynn thinks; Ahri is not fazed by the horns crowning her brow, nor the lashers poised above them both to stab, to slice, and so few have looked upon her in this state that lived to tell—

Evelynn almost wants to kill her for it. Right this wrong here, now — it would be easy, just a flick of her wrist to open a red smile in porcelain skin.

She leans down to press teeth to Ahri’s skin, breath coming in disjointed rasps, nestling her face into the crook of her neck. The sound that bubbles in Ahri’s throat is something Evelynn feels more than she hears; a thrumming little groan that stays trapped behind Ahri’s teeth as she fights to stay still in her claws. Evelynn hums, nonchalant, in response, and in a small show of mercy moves her hands up, away, leaving cuts behind that sting in the open air.

Ahri is a pretty little thing, grit teeth turning her gasp of surprise into a muted hiss as she tries in vain to deny Evelynn the satisfaction of a vocal reaction; Evelynn peers down at her with equal parts adoration and pity, watches her adjust to this new discomfort with a curious curl of her lips.

“Did you miss me, darling?"

(Dimly, as she presses her nose into the crook of Ahri’s neck to kiss her there, she notes that underlying affection in her voice which surprises them both.)

And, in an instant, something in Ahri’s posture becomes unguarded — as if to answer that question more loudly than any statement — and she tilts her head to give Evelynn more space; Evelynn scrapes her fangs over the skin there, raising barely-noticeable scratches as she growls into her shoulder. She hears Ahri laugh — light as air, like chimes in the night — as she re-acquaints herself with the feeling of her skin, exhales chilled breath over it all as she hooks fingers under the edge of fine cloth to rip it aside. The splitting of thread, snapping against her talons, contrasts oddly with how Ahri glows with delight, how she gives Evelynn a smile that she can almost hear.

“Of course I did,” Ahri says, and a lasher snakes about her arm and pulls; Evelynn feels her fingers wrap around it in turn, willingly accepting her embrace even as it tightens to the point of discomfort.

Always, she is never prepared to be treated with such a confident tenderness; for a moment, words won’t come, and Evelynn can do nothing but lose herself in the methodical tightening of that constriction until she feels Ahri gasp, and that warm hand falls limp.

Predatory doesn’t encompass the look she gives Ahri while she holds her there, not quite; there’s an undercurrent of something like disgust, almost fearful — a glimpse of some small, vulnerable thing, tucked away behind so many years of massacres.

Evelynn gathers herself to give voice to an echoing whisper; it sounds from someplace buried deep within her chest, and rebounds off the shadows that close in on them both, solid with the weight of need.

“Show me, then, pet.”

And despite the way Ahri shivers and gives way under her touch, exposes her most vulnerable points for Evelynn to so gleefully tease at the possibility of harm, her ears still perk up, playful, that ever-present confidence shining through the curl of her lip. She has some upper hand — or, rather, she thinks she does — some hidden factor in their game, and she lets the source of her amusement be known as she half-laughs out a response.

“Did you miss me?” When Evelynn hums idly in lieu of an answer, keeps ripping away Ahri’s clothes without words, Ahri’s smile twitches slightly wider. “Ah, Eve, are you perhaps — jealous?”

The expression that flickers across Evelynn’s face for a split-second at the accusation is indignant, almost childishly so; she buries her face back into Ahri’s shoulder with a dramatic pout that she can surely feel on her skin, tracing hairline cuts just above her breasts with the slightest bit of pressure.

“How could I be, if you’re already mine?” Despite her bluff, Evelynn visibly prickles with discontent; the lasher not wrapped about Ahri’s arm writhes and twists aimlessly in the night air, and her edges become slightly less defined against the backdrop of moonlight.

Ahri fails to suppress a giggle. “So you are.” She’s barely done speaking before fangs sink into her skin fully; not deep, but just enough to coax a gasp from her lungs, to push her into silence before Evelynn draws herself up, up, until she’s looming above Ahri and regarding her with slitted eyes, solid crimson and leaking bright mist that curls into the night air like smoke. Evelynn opens her mouth, a dripping crescent full of too many fangs and a throat that stretches into pure nothingness; Ahri feels some ghost of fear -- the taste of it is a pleasant surprise on her serpentine tongue — but, mostly, she tastes awe, adoration. Ahri stretches her restrained arm upwards to run fingers through liquid shadow, and the grip of the lasher slackens to allow her; tentatively, she cups Evelynn’s cheek in her warmth, and though she refuses to lean into it, Evelynn permits her touch.

“You know you’re irreplaceable. You make it… easier, to be myself.”

Ahri’s heart is unmasked, defenseless for one soft moment, and genuine love flows easily over them both; Evelynn would choke on it if she could, because Ahri sees her for what she is, and she loves it anyways — and, god, it’s intoxicating in so many horrible ways, and she wants to swallow the feeling and keep it like a treasure, wants to spit it to the dirt and burn it to ashes and forget it for the rest of her eternity.

— It can’t be both. She can’t do both.

So she lets out a guttural snarl and bares her teeth and curls her claws into soft flesh, watches Ahri drop her hand and shut her eyes at the searing pain and close herself off once more, and hisses from between needle-tip fangs, “Come see me more often, then. You have so much already — at least let me have you.”

Because Ahri can experience it all, and she can’t; not without hurting her, not without ghosting into her mind and taking her stolen pain for herself to covet and explore, to keep for her own. So she’s jealous, maybe — jealous of the humans, jealous of her fox, of all those who can subsist without the need to take from others, jealous of those who she can’t wrap around her finger and drown in their own desires.

— If that’s what this wanting is, this eroding, maddening, ever-burning need for more — then, yes, she’s jealous.

(But she’d never admit it.)

And how wonderful it would be, to see Ahri once more break under the strain of her own instincts; she’d be beautiful, wild and pure, drenched in red and gore and swirling with more life essence than ever before. Evelynn wants to see her reach that height again; she wants to see her as she was, centuries ago, an unrestrained beacon of chaos. To meet the Ahri she obsessed over endlessly, day and night, not this half-tame shadow of herself, trying to live as a human.

She wants to see her high on bloodlust, on danger.

“Why won’t you give yourself to me?” The words spill from her lips unbidden, tinged with a bitter envy underneath the silky-smooth tone, and she’s sure Ahri notices even without her commenting on it. Ultimately, even after a tense pause, drawing her lower lip between her teeth, Ahri doesn’t say anything in return, but, perhaps subconsciously, she presses herself back into the dirt.

“Don’t be shy, kitten— it’s easy.” Evelynn’s voice is almost measured, now, just a bit more restrained, but the light in her eyes speaks to a much different story. Flickering fear passes over Ahri’s expression as a dark cloud might blot out the sun; a reasonable response, Evelynn idly notes, but not the one she needs.

“You know how to do this— relax, and fall into me...” The words are rasped, rough with the effort of leashing herself even as her silhouette blurs at the edges, the night sky half-visible through her chest. Rough with the rush of danger, of mutual need — mutual addiction, rather — that eats at them both, and Evelynn watches, unblinking, for the split-second where it overrides natural caution and Ahri submits beneath a lethal threat (knowing that she’d never kill her.)

Possessiveness — protectiveness. It makes so many things spark to life in her throat.

Maybe a shred of momentary tenderness that shows in her face — Ahri acquiesces in that moment.

She relaxes into the bloodied grip of her lover, lowers just enough of her mental guard to allow Evelynn into her mind, her soul, black mist seeping through her mouth and her nose to settle, cold, in her chest, and Evelynn’s satisfied purr is an echoing rumble from both within and without. Ahri is showered with praise in the form of a wordless, sonorous hiss.

She draws one knife-point talon up the hollow of Ahri’s throat to her chin, and Ahri holds statue-still as the edge threatens to pierce the skin just behind her jaw, upwards towards her tongue. The way Evelynn smiles at her — pointed, ravenous — coaxes her fox to allow her ears to lay flat, cautiously baring her fangs in response as she expels shadows from her nose.

“Mm, now there’s my little beast,” Evelynn croons, delighted. “You’ve spent so long chasing human experience — I thought you might have forgotten yourself, kitten.”

“I —” There’s a response on the tip of Ahri’s tongue, something defiant, indignant; but she bites it back before it can fly free, and she snarls in the absence of speech.

They both know Ahri would like nothing more than to forget herself; but that same hunger tugs at her core, too, that monstrous need for sustenance that she can never sate — Evelynn crashes into her lips, and in that brief moment of surprise after, slips a serpentine tongue into her mouth to drink deep of all that repressed wild nature. Her body is electric, thrumming with some unseen power as she siphons Ahri’s essence into herself and feels it seep into the little spaces between bits of smoke, leaving her full — whole.

When she pulls back with a gasp, eyes closed in ecstasy, Ahri is panting, tears beading at the corners of her eyes, and even so she manages to fit an astonishing amount of affection into her next words.

“I wouldn’t forget — not with you, Eve.”

Not an excuse, but a promise; Evelynn pulls back to sit up with claws braced on Ahri’s torso — contemplating in silence the way that those tears run down into Ahri’s hair as she closes her eyes with a gentle smile. Evelynn flashes her a sneer that is little more than a display of teeth, knowing that Ahri cannot see it, and sweeps back in noiselessly to press fingers just below her chin, carelessly pricking and threatening to pierce skin.

When Ahri opens her eyes again, they are nose-to-nose, too close for comfort — even so, Evelynn wants more, wants to sink into her body and take her in her entirety, hers, now and forever after —

— Gods above, she’s _starved_.

And the look in Ahri’s eyes tells her — implores her — to take what she needs, to quiet that hunger for only a moment with a wealth of stolen memories. She offers, freely, what Evelynn is used to taking by force.

Blackest shade pools around them on the ground, and rises to envelop them both in a whispering void.

Evelynn has to acknowledge that it’s all quite unfair.

Who could resist that; such an show of genuine trust?

She plunges them both into nothing.

An unnatural silence is Ahri’s cocoon; a blind darkness where the only light left to her is the gleam of Evelynn’s eyes, set like gems in her face, the tongue peeking from a mouthful of shark teeth, the claws ripping at her skin for purchase. Evelynn twines locks of shadow about her calves, her thighs, her forearms, and holds them still like iron restraints — she can feel Ahri’s full body shudder through them, throughout all of herself as those perfect lips part in a soundless plea.

If Evelynn were possessed of more patience, perhaps she’d keep her there; unable to even squirm, holding her breath for a release that might never come, and watch her pass from frustration into desperation into agony — but there’s no time, not now, not when she’s been away for so long. She can only keep herself together enough to direct frantic hands from their place on Ahri’s flesh to take tight fistfuls of her hair and press their lips together with bruising force to hoard her wails like treasure, delving into her core with everything she can possibly muster, to take all that Ahri has to give.

— The benefits of being close with a gumiho, she would think, later.

Flashes of grievous injury, all-consuming loss, panic and terror and a crushing sensation of loneliness — they flood into her, memories from behind all different eyes, eaten and added to a menagerie of disparate experiences. Evelynn doesn’t take them; instead, she draws them to the front and inflames them. Ahri is sobbing openly, now, her crying muffled and drowned out by a chorus of different voices hissing without words, and Evelynn’s eyes are alight with a spark like nothing else, two blazing suns in a miniature void of space. Her shadow-flesh is on fire with white-hot intensity, and she can’t let it stop, can’t let it end, because it’s not even close to what she needs — all she ever wanted is here, if only Ahri could give her more.

Dimly, she’s aware of the moment in which Ahri goes limp beneath her — no, completely surrounded by her — and, all at once, Evelynn shrinks back into herself.

She’s straddling Ahri in the forest again; Ahri, who is barely breathing, the rise and fall of her chest weak, motionless save for how her hands dig marks into the soft soil as she cries.

 

* * *

 

 

When Ahri finally stabilizes, finds herself in the haze of pain and fear she’d been thrust into, the first thing she’s aware of is Evelynn embracing her with an uncharacteristic gentleness, catching her falling tears with long strokes of her tongue. Opening her eyes is a great effort; it feels as if she is working with lead, slow and heavy as anything, and the expression she is met with is not a smirk, a sneer, but one of only barely perceptible worry.

— The closest thing to an apology Evelynn can give. Her lips are pursed, and when she notices Ahri’s return to consciousness she abruptly averts her gaze, closed-off with something like embarrassment — guilt, maybe, or some looming anticipation of rejection. So she can’t see Ahri’s smile, at first, not until a gentle hand at her back pulls her back in from where she had retreated away, and she meets Ahri’s gaze again with no small amount of hesitation.

“Hello to you too,” Ahri says, voice hoarse and ragged from exertion, and Evelynn stops in place like a small creature in the presence of a predator, locked up and wary.

The world around them gradually returns to life. Animals scurry in the underbrush, and the first birds to wake at dawn begin their songs.

Ahri prompts her forwards with a light pressure on her shoulder, and, seemingly, it’s all the reassurance she might have needed.

Evelynn leans into her immediately, losing corporeal shape and finding a comfortable place of rest in the curve of her body, as Ahri idly draws fingers through frigid flames that don’t burn, humming soft, satisfied, as her wounds sting in the cold light of morning.

Evelynn hums, too, as she caresses Ahri with a different sort of touch; possessive, still, but undeniably some sort of caring, and as she does, Ahri’s eyelids drop without her notice, happy to shift her focus to the undertone of Evelynn’s voice mingling with hers in perfect unison.

She doesn’t know when she falls asleep, but when she wakes, it is day, and her shadow stretches out almost too long behind her, condensed in the shade provided by boughs overhead.

“Down here,” she hears when she stands, spoken in a tone that’s almost teasing, as if Ahri hadn’t noticed from the start.

She singsongs back, with equal faux-sweetness. “Aren’t you always?”


End file.
